For twenty-one days, we’d visitCold rooms of a strange hospital –Eager to see a babywith hydrocephalus breathe.But I’m glad you never joined usbecause you’d have to grow upwith us four, with Bhai’s teenagetantrums, glass shattered in the livingRoom and Ammi’s swollen eyesUnder her flowery duvetThrough these seventeen years.You never had to hearAnger in Baba’s wordsDisplaced at no one, it’secho that lingered for days.You, little sister, alwaysImagined to be a part of usBut lucky to be shieldedfrom the monotony of our lives.

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*In Pakistan, Bhai is a term used for elder brothers, Ammi for mothers, and Baba for fathers.